Though We're strangers
by JTheGoblinKing
Summary: A Labyrinth fan fiction


Disclaimer: The following is an old Labyrinth fan fiction I wrote for a Labyrinth fan fiction group years ago. Labyrinth belongs to Henson. Most, if not all, of the Labyrinth fan fiction I am going to post here is at least ten years old, if not older. You will see the original dates they were written placed into these documents. These fan fictions predate the canon of Return to Labyrinth.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 1

From:

Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:45:32 EDT

Small Notice:

This Labyrinth based fiction is a sort of sequel to Wanna live

Underground. It contains the character of Tariel of Blackrose first conceived

of by Christine at . And the character of Jerrie, first

conceived of by Sarah at .

The plot of this miner Labyrinth fan fiction was * Very loosely *

based on ideas conceived of in The America Online Labyrinth role playing

game. Other inspirations are from the original Underground music video clip,

the Look back in Anger music video clip and the As the world falls down video

clip (which was never publicly released but is available in The Bowie Video

Collection, released to home videotape and digital video disc in 1993).

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Though we're Strangers

The secret identity of Jeremy King.

He wanted to laugh about it and yet he did not. He was more

then a little pleased with himself in creating for himself the second life,

this human identity that he could escape in to on a whim. He was living a

second life. He felt like a child's comic book figure. He felt rather like

a super hero or a secret espionage agent in some long forgotten war story.

But there was no war but the war between his desires and his own

responsibilities. And he did not slip off from The Underground to be Jeremy

King to save to word or do anything truly, utterly fantastic. He did it to

keep his sanity. And he did it to be human

Jeremy King walked quickly down the long and narrow five flights of

stairs to get to the front entrance of the old, run down building. When he

reached the first floor he paused as a wooden door swung open.

"Good day, Mrs. Hayes." He had said that with a forced smile as

the hard faced old woman stepped out in to the hall. She was a harsh, cold

and emotionless creature, this woman. A bitter old creature, she was. She

wore an angora bathrobe. Her feet were in a pair of cotton slippers. Her

dyed red hair was up in tiny plastic curlers. Her appearance disgusted him.

She was at least seventy. She acted as if she had lived one thousand one

hundred and thirty five years.

He could make out the distinct sound of a baby crying from

behind her. She was looking after her newborn niece again and from the sound

of it not doing such a fantastic job of it too.

Her thin, gnarled and arthritic hands rested on her hips. Her

dried out, thin and cracked lips curled in to a sneer as she narrowed her

tiny, pinhole like eyes at him. The expression upon her face only made her

age lines all the more apparent. "The rent's due on Thursday, Jeremy! I

don't wanna hear nuthin' 'bout you bein' tied up for it. Ya had betta pay or

gather up your things and move along out. Ya hear me, boy?"

"Yes, Mrs. Hayes." He said as he walked out the front door and

towards the street. Why should he allow someone like that to bother him? He

never felt so free as he did in the form of Jeremy King. If he had been

Jareth, The Goblin King however that poorly aging woman might have found

herself to be neck deep in the filth of The Bog of Eternal Stench.

Mrs. Hayes did not like Jeremy King at all. She did not like him

one tiny bit. She did not trust him an inch. He had just appeared there a

long while ago with a hand full of money and asking for a room to rent to act

as his home and art studio. He was too smug. He was far too self-assured.

And he never acknowledged his low status in the social ladder at all. For a

poor, scrubby street rat he was far too damned self-assured. He had no past.

He had no real identification and never once did he speak up about his

family to anyone at all. He was a very self contained man though he was

polite to his neighbors when they would greet him in passing.

Jeremy King just did not act right according to Mrs. Hayes. There

was just something different about him. There was just something odd about

him. He was too peculiar. There was just something about him. He just did

not act right at all. There was just something about him that was just=E2=80=A6

wrong.

Thirteen years ago the young girl, Sarah Williams had solved his

Labyrinth. In this disguise of a mortal man named Jeremy King- Jareth, The

Goblin King now walked alone down the busy city street. It was early in the

month of March. It was still early yet in the evening yet to him it could

just as easily have been midnight. His eyes were down cast. He placed his

hands in to the pockets of his long, worn, old jacket that draped around him

rather like a cape. His short, somewhat curly sandy blond hair was

disheveled and tangled. His long, slightly spiked bangs blew in to his eyes.

Often he would slip off to Earth now. He spent nearly half of his

time here on Earth lately as this simple artist, Jeremy King as opposed to

living in the abject chaos of The Underground and being forced to try and

attempt to keep order in such madness. He was emotionally exhausted and

aching.

The last words that Sarah Williams had said to him, Jareth, The

Goblin King, still echoed in his mind even after all this time. He could

remember it all too clearly. "You have no power over me." Again he had

lost. A small fraction of his confidence was now lost to him and he

wondered if there could ever be a way for him to redeem himself to himself.

Sarah no longer needed him or his reality. She had let it all go

for the sake of convention. Now she was a woman. Now she held a steady

employment and seemed to be doing quite well for herself, living a

conformable, and to him, terribly drab life style. He did not need to

interfere with all of that. She was happy in her place now on Earth. She

had found her way in to the part, as it were. And that was all that seemed

to matter, that she at least believed that she was happy. He knew that she

secretly believed in him still. She had not forgotten the truth of her

adventure though his Labyrinth. At least the lesson had been taught and what

she had to have been taught that fateful night so long ago she had learned.

It had been so long since then. He did not know why he felt so

melancholy about it all now.

The air was chilly this evening. The wind had picked up a bit and he

was walking against it. He up-turned the collar of his jacket to help

protect from the wind. His head was slightly bowed. This did minimal good

against the whether but he would never complain about it really, or at least

you would never here Jeremy King complaining about it.

The lone woman waked down the street. There was a large, heavy

brown, paper bag in her arms and she carried with her the grace of royalty

with her head held high.

She was never one to be unsure of herself. She had a place to go

and an intention as well.

The proud and forceful woman answered only to the name of Elania.

Elania hastened her pace in her walk. She was very nearly out of breath.

In her arms she carried the large brown, paper bag filled with new, freshly

bought art supplies. She had spent all of the afternoon shopping.

She was a tall woman. She was not at all unattractive. Her raven

hair ran down her back. She wore a blue dress of oriental design, something

of centuries before though in this modern city such eccentric fashions did

not cause hardy a raised eyebrow to question against it.

She wanted to return to her flat as quickly as possible. She

had things to be done and all before dawn. And she still had not prepared

her own supper and she was famished. She was a very independent creature and

hated when others would attempt to do menial tasks for her. She was very

strong willed and rather aggressive. If she wanted something it would be

done eventually. She lived by the simple philosophy that if you truly want

for something to be done then all you would have to do is act. Nothing is

accomplished unless someone acts. You should never have to take only what

you are given. That was the belief by which she had always lived and always

would live by.

There was a competition for artists who specialized in works of

fantasy and surrealistic imagery a week from Saturday. Elania was determined

to win out at this. She needed the acknowledgement. She knew that she wasa

good artist. All she truly needed was the right opportunity for her career

to truly lift off of the ground. This very well could be it. And then- then

she would show them all. She did not need anyone's help!

It looked as if it might rain soon and Elania was not dressed

properly for it at all. She felt fortunate that she was walking with the

wind rather then against it. Her flat was hardly even a block further away

from where she was now.

Her shoe heals clicked against the pavement as she walked.

She hated those wretched things. It had been a man who surely must have

invented those horrid things. And if most men were so incline to believing

that they made the leg all the more appealing to the eye then why did not

those bastards wear them? She usually would wear flat based shoes. The

heals were hurting her badly by now. She should never have had put those

things on. She had no real idea as to why she had put them on. She was

never one to conform to anyone's idea of what was physically appealing. The

ephemeral, superficial image meant almost nothing to her.

He did not see the woman coming towards him. He had not been paying

any mind to anything that stood in front of him. By the time he had looked

up the collision had already occurred.

She had seen him. She was about to walk around the handsome fellow

with the peculiar eyes when the back of her heal had cough itself, wedged in

a break in the concrete. One of them made a noise that sounded like a

startled scream and she was certain that it had not been her. She fell on

top of him and he landed back, hitting his bum hard on the pavement. She had

dropped her bag and her shoe had fallen from off her foot.

"Blasted things never did fit right." She mumbled as she caught

herself in the awkward situation of nearly lying right on top of the man's

belly. She scurried back like a spider caught in the light.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 2

From:

Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:45:59 EDT

He smiled at her. Who was at fault here? He had not been watching

where he had been going, true enough but he had never been clumsy enough to

walk right in to someone. He would never confess that as they fell that it

had been he that had screamed out.

Elania picked up her shoe and leaning against the brick wall of an

old building she placed it where it belonged.

"I'm terribly sorry about this." The peculiar man said to her.

She looked at him with casual physical interest. She liked the

sound of his voice. "It's quite all right. It's my fault really." She said

as she went to gather up some jars of paint, the ones that had not cracked

open upon impact in the fall and placed them back in to her bag.

"No, really. I should have been more conscious of where I was

walking." He wanted to laugh at himself. No one would know him as Jareth,

The Goblin King like this. The Goblin King would never, ever apologize to

anyone even if he had in fact made a mistake. No one would ever dream to

suspect that he was more then what he appeared to be. They would take their

preconceived notions about the man they saw too easily for granted.

He noticed what she was doing, scurrying about for her lost items.

"Oh, Here. Let me help you out with that."

He bent down and took the bag from her and finished gathering

up the rest of her lost brushes, small jars of paint, sponges, and pens.

She stood up, as did he as soon as he had repackaged most

everything that was salvageable. "Thank you so much." She said.

"It wasn't anything really." He said.

He held the bag in both arms. It was actually quite heavy. He

tried to maintain carrying it all in his right arm as the woman held her hand

out to him. "My name's Elania."

He shook hands with her politely. "I am Jeremy King." He smiled.

He had realized quickly enough that she was an artist from the matter

of what was contained in her bag.

"Oh, you are an artist, I see."

"Yes, well=E2=80=A6 Only an amateur, really." She said.

He smiled. "I would like to see some of your work sometime."

She held out her arms to retrieve the bag from him.

"Oh, no. I can carry this for you to wherever it is you were

walking."

"I really do not need any help but thank you just the same." She said

slightly defensively.

"Oh, it's really no trouble at all. I insist."

It was at this point that Jareth began to question his sanity.

Jareth, The Goblin King would never do this. It seemed that Jeremy King's

personality was a complete contrast to Jareth's all together.

Finally the woman, Elania shrugged her shoulders. "All right."

There was something strange and suspicious about this man. She

did not worry much over it though. She knew how to defend herself and would

do what she had to protect herself if need be. "My studio is just a little

ways up a head." She pointed towards a brick building complex just up the

block from where they stood.

They walked up a flight of stairs to the studio.

The room was filled with paintings and art supplies. Canvases of

incomplete paintings lay all around. Many drawing of mystical beings hung

with tacks to the far back wall.

He looked around with a fascinated smile. "These are yours?"

"Yes, most of them." She replied.

He placed the bag down on to a wooden chair. He stepped over toa

canvas and took a good look at a particular unfinished painting. It was of

an elven child. It seemed so real to Jareth that he could swear that he had

seen the child before.

"These are simply exquisite." He said as he reached out a hand,

very nearly touching the surface of the canvas but daring not to disturb it.

"Why, thank you." Said Elania with a smile. She stepped

behind him.

Seeing him now in the artificial lamp light of the studio she could see him

far better then she had on the street when they had collided. He actually

was a very handsome man.

Elania tried to be polite though she was not so very used to the

situation where she might have to be. He was far too clean of appearance to

be a homeless man. "What do you do for a living?" She asked.

"Oh, I dabble." He gestured to her painting. "And I'm a

performer. I sing at The Raven's Nest, you know that little hole in a wall of

a nightclub just few blocks away from here."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I sing too though it

does not really seem to be amounting to much."

"Well,-" He said simply and with a strangely honest and direct

curiosity. "-do you want it to amount to anything really or are you happy

where you are?"

She did not reply but only smiled a secret, knowing smile. It

was strange. It was as if he were piercing in to her very soul.

"It is my personal belief-" he said "-that happiness is far

more important then amounting tot anything other then what you would like to

be. If you are contented where you are then you should not try to aspire to

anything more unless you truly desire more. But if you are happy then you

should stay right where you are."

"Are you happy?"

He looked at her blankly. "I beg your pardon."

"Are you happy, Jeremy?"

He cleared his throat and forced out a slight laugh. He turned

and looked back to the painting.

He stood to be about five foot, ten inches tall. He wore tight jean

pants and black leather boots. He liked the way that felt. He wore a baggy

white T-shirt. Over his baggy white T-shirt he had on his old, worn leather

jacket. The jacket was long. It draped down and caressed his thighs. He

wore tattered leather gloves with the finger slots roughly cut off.

He appeared to be about thirty eight, maybe thirty nine years of age

and he looked to be more like a teenaged biker then an artist really with his

peculiar and eccentric fashion sense. He liked the way he looked though. He

knew that he was a very handsome man, despite his somewhat ragged and tired

appearance. He had thick, slightly curly, sandy blond hair. His long bangs

brushed in to his eyes.

And Elania noticed that he had the most unusual eyes. His left eye

was just slightly over dilated and seemed a deep, dark blue. His right eye

was a clear, icy blue.

She had seen slightly mismatched eyes like his before. She could

swear that she had but where?

He spoke up as if reading her thoughts. "We have been here before

but where or when I cannot tell."

She smiled.

"I had better be going." He said. "I would like to see you again,

Elania. Is there a chance that we could-"

She interrupted him. "I will be singing at a club two nights from now.

Maybe after the show we can perhaps have dinner together, maybe."

She was a very beautiful woman with her long dark hair and her feline

graces. He could not recall as to where or when or why but he could swear

that he had seen her somewhere before. And yet he could also recall meeting

with no one quite like her before.

"I would love to."

Elania took a pen out of a jug of pens and pencils from off of a

desk that stood near to the canvas that Jeremy King had been admiring. Elania

took a small piece of paper off of a blank note-pad and using the pen wrote

down her telephone number and the name of the nightclub that she would be

performing at as well as a time to be there.

She handed it over to him. He smiled.

Elania knew to be cautious with meeting with strangers in the city

but there was something to Jeremy King that she found oddly alluring.

He bid her a good night and left her to her studio.

Jareth the Goblin King leaned over in his throne. He yawned. The

Queen of Blackrose had to have been the dullest excuse for royalty in the

entire universe. What was the shrew bitching about now? Didn't she have

anyone else to harass?

His elbow rested on the arm of his throne. His head was tilted to

the side, resting in his hand.

He would have given anything to be on Earth just then in the

guise of the mortal, Jeremy King as opposed to this dealing with this dreary

nonsense.

He gave Tariel, The Queen of Blackrose a patronizing smile. His

eyes were half-massed and distant. He could not care less if his goblins had

raided her market place. They were goblins! What the Hell else was she to

expect from them? They raid and pillage! That's what goblins do! She was

boring him nearly to the point of tears.

"Jareth. Jareth! Jareth! Jareth, are you listening to me?

Are you listening at all to a word that I am saying to you?"

He sat up straight. "To be perfectly frank, my dear, half-breed,

No I am not listening to a word that you are saying. I could not care less

if my goblins are upsetting your people. They ARE goblins. That is what

they do!"

He loved the sudden expression of rage the swept across Tariel's

face. He loved to tease and torment her with the term "half-breed". Tariel

was one half elf and one half-human. Now, Jareth did not think that there

was anything at all wrong with this really but he knew that Tariel tried to

be quite discrete about her impurely elven ancestry to her people. She

seemed even ashamed about it. And so it was an easy target for him to aim

for to torment her with when he felt the need for idle amusement in provoking

her anger. He often wondered would she grow to be so frightfully upset at

him for calling her that if she knew at all that his mother had in fact been

human.

"Don't ever call me that!" She said through clenched teeth.

He smirked. Now this just made him want to taunt her even more.

Only now was this truly beginning to entertain him.

"And if you insist upon ignoring my warning, Goblin King, then my

people will take the antics of your goblins as a threat and be forced to take

defensive action!"

He raised an eyebrow. Was she actually hinting at provoking a war

over this? Was she ACTUALLY daring the threaten HIM? Oh, really now she did

seem to be over reacting just a bit.

"Oh, calm down, Half-breed. Really, now. You are intent of

making something of this that it does not have to be."

He did not see it happen. She had moved far quicker then he had

imagined that she could move. Apparently he had under estimated her powers.

The flash of light came quickly as she raised her arm in to the

air. The blast of electricity hit him with a sharp jolt in the chest. He

gasped. Falling backward against the back of the throne he stared at her

coldly.

"Need I remind you of who ACTUALLY holds more power?" She asked as

she placed down her hand.

He clenched his teeth, his hands gripped in to tight fists. He

seriously was developing a strong dislike for this woman.

"The problem will be dealt with, I trust!" She said.

A flash of blue light filled the throne room and she was gone.

The few goblins that had been present stared blankly where she

had stood. Someone had actually defied their master and he had not struck

back. They did not know what to make of this. But they knew that he was

upset and this meant that he would more then likely lash out at them over

this.

A particularly stupid, furry black goblin screamed in terror as he

was tossed from the window of the throne room. A loud splattering noise was

heard with a terrible thud.

Jareth felt much better now.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 3

From:

Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:47:27 EDT

Jeremy King adjusted the collar of his jacket as he walked in to the

crowded nightclub.

Moving like a cat in the jungle he made his way through the crowd

towards the small stage. He was early. Elania was still performing.

She stood on the stage in a pair of faded jean pants and a pink tank

top, sleeveless shirt that was two sizes too small on her. She wore slip on

shoes without socks. Her hair hung behind her in a partial ponytail.

She was beautiful, even in the poor lighting of this dingy place.

He would not be able to recall what song she was singing but her

voice- it rang like a bell. She truly was amazing. She had a great talent.

If she wanted she truly could make a career out of that voice alone.

She danced as she sang, like a seventeenth century gypsy around a

campfire. She moved with an agile grace. She swayed to the music as if

hypnotized by it. She truly was fantastic.

She saw him in the crowd. Those distinct eyes were the first thing

that she noticed. She was glad that he had actually come. She had not

thought that he would. But should she trust him? There was something very

peculiar about him. Oh, well, no matter. She could defend herself if she

had to.

Once the final song was finished he applauded with the crowd.

With his arm wrapped around her the two stood near to the bar.

"You were fantastic." He said to her.

"Thank you." She replied. "Maybe I can see you perform sometime in the

near future."

"But of course."

"Well, where should we go?" She asked.

"It's a nice night, I thought that maybe we should just go for a walk."

Just then a man who had been standing by quietly spoke up and

stepped towards them.

Jeremy retracted his arms from Elania.

The man seemed to completely ignore Jeremy all together. His hair was

dark and his eyes were brown. He was large of build and very muscular.

"Hello, Elania." The man said.

"Hello, Richi."

She looked at Jeremy and then at Richi. "Oh, Jeremy, this is Richard.

Richi here, owns the club."

Jeremy held out his hand. "It's a pleasure."

Richi did not return the favour. He gave Jeremy a suspicious, cold

gaze and then focussed his attention back to Elania. "You never gave me a

straight answer, Elania."

Elania frowned. She tensioned. Jeremy could almost feel the

pressure that she must have felt that she was under. She was obviously

uncomfortable around this particular man. "I told you already that I'm not

interested in-"

Jeremy interrupted her. "Excuse me, Richi, but isn't that a fire

hazard?" He was looking behind him at a pile of alcohol soaked wash rag

near to the back wall.

Richi turned and looked at the rags. At first he thought nothing

of it but as Jeremy and he both stared at the old wash rags for that split

moment the whole bundle abruptly burst in to flames.

Richi rushed over to put out the small blaze. As Richi was distracted

Jeremy grabbed Elamia's arm. "Come on."

She stared at him blankly. It was more then improbable but something

inside of her was certain that somehow Jeremy was responsible for that fire.

She had seen people before with unique abilities. Now she was more

suspicious of Jeremy King then she had been before. Could he be a

pyro-kinetic and if so then was he dangerous?

Everyone has their secrets.

"Come on!" He said again, trying to lead her to the door.

"But I have to help-"

"He doesn't need it. He can put it out himself. Let's go."

It did appear that Richi now had the flames under control.

They walked out in to the night. Under a street lamp Jeremy paused

and noticed that Elania was out of breath. She was breathing deeply. She

did not seem as if she was able to catch her breath. Her skin was pale. To

keep steady she leaned back against the lamppost.

"Are you all right?" Jeremy asked her.

"Yes=E2=80=A6. Yes, I'll be fine. It's just that earlier I had to put

someone in their place and it took a lot out of me."

"Oh? May I ask who?"

"Oh, just some pompous, over bearing, arrogant prick who thinks

that he has control over the entire universe."

He laughed slightly. "I think I happen to know a woman rather like

that."

"Was she your lover?" Suddenly she felt defensive. He was

attractive and seemed a fan of artistic creativity but that had to have been

too good to be true. Perhaps he was married. He was an attractive man,

physically but Elania knew well that looks could be deceiving. And then

there was the matter of that strange fire yet.

"Oh, Heavens no. I would have to be completely off my rocker to

ever even consider any form of intimate relationship with that =E2=80=A6 that woman.

That woman is so self-absorbed, so egotistical, whining, bitching, snobbish=E2=80=A6"

She repressed a laugh and continued for him "bratty, controlling,

manipulative, power-mad arse?"

"Yes. Apparently you and I have to deal with the same sort of

people on a daily routine."

"Apparently so."

"But don't let people like that exhaust you, love."

She looked at him curiously.

"If you push yourself to your limits then they know what they

have to aspire past in over coming you. Never show your true limitations to

your enemies."

"Now you sound like a general leading an army."

"Perhaps. Perhaps it is just a voice of experience. General?

Ha! King, rather=E2=80=A6." He smirked. "The King of the struggling artists."

She laughed. "Well, your majesty, I don't mind. I don't mind

at all"

She regained her composure and the two began to walk down the

block.

Gradually she began to feel comfortable around Jeremy. He

seemed polite, creative, open-minded and had a terrific sense of humour.

They walked to a small, shabby, slightly run down theatre to catch

a show of A Mid Summer Night's dream. They were given tickets to some very

good seats for such a little, dingy theatre. Jeremy seemed to know by name

all of the employees of the little establishment. He was seemingly

aquatinted with them all.

As the curtains opened Jeremy proudly pointed out. "Do you see

there, the background drop?" Elania leaned over. It was exquisitely

detailed, the backdrop. It looked more like an elaborate painting as opposed

to a typical play backdrop. It was so very detailed. It was amazing. It

was a shame that she would never have caught notice to such a good piece of

art in such shabby surroundings and set in such a way that it would almost

entirely be ignored. The shadows of the trees in the still image of the

backdrop seemed so real that she could almost swear that the players were

standing in some fantastical other place that they, the audience were viewing.

"My God! That is fantastic detail. Whoever painted that- I fear

their talent is going to waste here. I suppose there can be terrific art

anywhere, you just need to open your eyes and see it. It is a shame though,

that most of it goes unnoticed." She sighed.

Repressing what could easily have turned in to a wide grin Jeremy

nodded. He leaned over and whispered in to her ear proudly. "I painted the

backdrops and I had assisted with most of the set designs on this little

production."

She looked at the large, curtain like painting that stood as an excuse

for a play's backdrop. She looked to him to the painting again and again,

completely ignoring the actors who seemed to be rushing about the stage

speaking nonsense. "You?!?! You did that?"

He chuckled slightly. As he wrapped his arm around her.

There was no denying it, Jeremy King was a good artist.

"I had to find some means to pay the rent this month. I cannot very

well make money appear out of no where. If I could do that I think that my

neighbors might grow to be quite suspicious of me." He laughed somewhat

uneasily. "And I would rather not be burnt at the stake, thank you very

much."

She laughed. "Well, we can't have that, now can we?"

"No, we most certainly can't."

"That mustn't happen. Such a good artist should not be lost to

this world."

He leaned forward. She smiled faintly and on impulse he kissed

her. Her soft lips pressed in to his own. The salty taste sent a rush of

sensation through Elania. It was almost as if a charge of electricity passed

through them. There was something almost magical to this. They both could

feel it.

A short while later, after the two had settled arm in arm in to

their seats properly to watch the show Elania turned around in her seat.

Jeremy noticed her stirring almost immediately. It was towards the spot in

the play where Puck says to Oberon

"My fairy lord, this must be done with haste,

For night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast,

And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger;

At whose approach ghost wand'ring here and there,

Troop home to churchyards: damned spirits all,

That in crossways and floods have burial,

Already to their wormy beds are gone,

For fear lest day should look their shame upon,

They willfully themselves exile from light,

And must for aye consort with black-browed night,

Oberon replies to this with, "But we are spirits of another sort."

Elania looked back towards the stage she seemed uneasy.

"What is it?" Asked Jeremy.

"I have this feeling=E2=80=A6 I must be paranoid." She shook herhead.

"=E2=80=A6But I could swear that someone was following us."

He had made it a rule to try and divide being Jareth, The Goblin King

and then being Jeremy King as best he could, which meant not to rely on his

powers in that form unless absolutely necessary. Quietly he let his mind

relax and waited. In only a few short moments he could sense it. There was

a man in the back of the theatre and he was not watching the play. He was

watching Elania.

Turning his head just slightly to the side Jeremy glanced in

the reflection of a small mirror that hung for light reflection on to the

stage. Narrowing his all too human, and faulted eyes that he had in that

form he could see clearly in the reflection the image of Richi. He stood

with his arms folded along the far back wall..

Sitting forward again Jeremy muttered under his breath "This could

prove to be a problem."

Making a casual gesture with his hand Jeremy forced out a small bit

of magick, not wishing to exert his abilities. On Earth his powers were

already limited, and severely minimized but also the longer that he remained

on Earth without returning to The Underground, the less like Jareth, The

Goblin King he became and the more like Jeremy King he would transform. In

fact if he were to stay on Earth for too long a period of time he was bound

to forget entirely who he was and where he had truly come from. He would be

trapped, though by then not even realize that he was trapped, as the human

image of Jeremy King.

The door to janitorial supply closet just behind Richi swung open.

And a bit of crashing and clatter was heard as mops, brooms and a wash bucket

fell out. Startled and afraid of being caught in his stalking Richi abruptly

left the theatre.

Jeremy smiled to himself, proud of his own simple handiwork.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 4

From:

Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:48:00 EDT

After the show Jeremy walked Elania back to her home.

"I had a wonderful time." Elania said with a smile. "Though I

think Puck almost forgot his lines towards the end."

"He's new to the players in that troop. He just needs a little

time, is all."

"I suppose so. =E2=80=A6.I would like to see you again sometime."

"I would like to see you again as well. Shall I meet you

tomorrow? Will that be all right?" Asked Jeremy.

She nodded. "Yes, I would like that very much, actually."

He grinned. "Very well." He slipped in to quoting Macbeth.

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow=E2=80=A6"

Elania grinned and then finished the quote for

him.

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death, Out, out brief candle,

Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more; it is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing,"

Jeremy made a slightly disgusted face as Elania smiled. "What?"

"Well, if you say it like that then it is depressing as all Hell."

She laughed. "Good night, Jeremy."

"Good night, Elania."

For several months Elania and Jeremy King's romance continued fairly

much as their first night out together had been. Jeremy and Elania would

meet around the hour of dusk every night and for several hours they would do

whatever they pleased together though true intimacy had not yet occurred.

And that was perfectly all right. Physical pleasure did not have to be the

center focus for a romantic entanglement and Jareth could just imagine what

would happen if a mortal woman, whom he was not even "Jareth" for were to

find that she was pregnant with his child. The results could be disastrous.

They went nearly everywhere together. They went of together to see

theatre shows of musicals, plays, and even to the circus and petty magician

acts. They shared very similar interests and rarely ever argued but when

they did argue it was the sort of argument that one would take pleasure in

having because they were arguing over the same point of interest, making it

rather like an argument with one self. They would go to art shows and discus

many different art forms, form the surrealistic fantastical works of Brian

Froud to the bizarre pop art creations of artists like Clive Barker, Tim

Burton and J. O'Barr.

They went shopping together. Oddly, though both of them seemed to be

in a low income of financial support, life styles Jeremy always seemed to

have just enough money in his pockets to do as he pleased.

Sometimes they would just walk about the streets together, arm in

arm, admiring the might-scape. All and all it truly was a wonderful time

that they had with one and other though every now and again the sensation

would come up and Elania would pause. She would know that someone was

watching her as she was with Jeremy.

And each time Jareth would know that this was Richi watching them,

stalking after a woman that did not truly desire his company. And always

something of the most peculiar sort would happen to Richi. The oddest of

these things perhaps being that as he followed them to the park in the early

part of June and he found himself tripping, and falling on his back from

stepping on a puddle of slick ice, meanwhile the temperature was nearly

seventy eight degrees that day.

For almost a full eleven months the two spent their evenings together

and though by this time all the masculine instincts in Jareth were screaming

the two had not yet become truly physically intimate.

Half awake Jareth sat with a crystal in his hand. On his throne he

leaned forward. The crystal sown the image clearly in the light. The

beautiful young girl with the almond eyes and the caramel skin, Jerrie was

racing through the Labyrinth. She had only twenty minutes remaining to be

able to make it through his Labyrinth.

The young girl ran down the tiled passage of The Labyrinth. She

could not have been more then in her early twenties at best. Her curly dark

hair tangled in he face. She was determined to do this. She wore a long,

old fashioned dress, of colourful silk. As she ran she accidentally triggered

a trap by stepping on the wrong tile. The ground gave way from under her

feet with a mighty rumbling as the stone slab of a tile slid out from under

her.

Falling in to the shaft the beautiful young girl grabbed a hold of

the edge of the opening, stopping her own fall as best she could.

Dangling over the dark shaft she cried out desperately for her

husband "Thomas!" He could not help her. She knew that he could not. But

The Goblin King would not really let her die in his Labyrinth, would he?

Finally with a great effort of physical strength in finding her

footing along a stone she managed to climb back up in to the passage.

A bright blue light filled the throne room. Jareth groaned. He

knew who had appeared before looking up from his crystal orb.

It was the ever-annoying Queen, Tariel of Blackrose, again. The ever

annoying, half human- half elf, Queen of Blackrose stood before him. She was

a close friend of the girl that he was sending through the Labyrinth just

now. Of course she could not possibly keep it a secret that she was

half-human forever. Her ears alone would give her away, that and the fact

that she stood a striking, five foot eight inches tall. This was not at all

the usual elven height, not in the slightest.

Tariel looked at the crystal in Jareth's hand that now shattered in

his hand. The splinters glittered as they fall to the floor.

"How can you do that to her, Jareth? How can you do that to her?"

Tariel cried angrily.

"She asked for a chance to have a go at solving it, Tariel! I

am not at fault for it!"

"But she is your sister-in-law. She married your brother!"

"She married my half brother! And I am not all too keen on that

at all. And what would you know of what is really going on here anyway,

half-breed?"

"You would let her die in there!"

"I have no intention of allowing that to happen. I just want

her to remember just who is master of this place and how powerful I truly am.

She was the one that was certain that she could solve The Labyrinth."

"But you are putting her through Hell! She married your brother!"

"He is my HALF, brother, Tariel! And don't think I am all too

pleased about that! For one thing I have absolutely no idea what one half of

him IS, in fact! He weighs at least twenty pounds less then I do and is a

bloody alcoholic!"

"Who drove him to that, Jareth?" She crossed her arms.

"Oh, you can't possibly blame me for that!"

He formed another crystal in his hand to continue the

observations of his sister-in-law trying in her near to futile effort to

solve The Labyrinth within the scant few minutes that remained.

Tariel in a rage smacked the crystal sphere from his hand.

He stood up angrily, ready to strike at her when suddenly he

had to shield his eyes.

What looked to be a bright stream of electricity rose from her

fingertips. From out of the window of the throne room window Jareth could

see dark storm clouds gathering rapidly.

Tariel mumbled an incantation in an ancient Elven Dialect that

Jareth could not quite understand. Finally she said in English "Your selfish

ways will be your undoing, Jareth, King of The Goblins. I curse you and your

world. It shall be forever winter here until you are able to commit a

completely selfless act, with the intent of gaining nothing from the act but

for the sake of another."

"YOU CANNOT DO THIS!"

"I can and I will!" She disappeared in a new burst of light.

Jareth ran to the window and looked out over The Labyrinth.

"Perpetual winter. Just lovely- just great- just peachy!"

The icy wind blew in his hair. And then the snowflakes began to

fall, lightly dusting over The Goblin City.

How was he to commit a selfless act? How many creatures, human or

other were truly selfless? He probably had never committed a selfless act in

his life, or rather at least he could not remember having done anything

selfless before at all in his past This revelation shocked him. But what

was he to do? He could possibly commit a truly selfless act without it

truly being for the fact that he wanted to rid himself of this curse. His

world was doomed and it was all that idiotic half-elf's fault!

That night as the two companions walked down the city street Elania

was in more then a lightly chipper mood. Jeremy however hardly said a word.

"Why, whatever is the matter, darling?" She asked him.

"Oh, it's=E2=80=A6 nothing. I just have a few problems that needto be

dealt with. I'm just finding myself under a great deal of pressure lately,

is all."

She looked in to his eyes. She could see deep worry and frustration

within them. Taking the liberty to brush some of his long blond strands of

hair from out of his eyes she kissed him. "You know what, Jeremy? It's

occurred to me that I have never once yet seen where you live. I had

actually almost begun to suspect that you are in fact homeless." She said

playfully.

"All right, fine." He shrugged lightly. "But I warn you, it

isn't much to look at. I am just a scrubby painter."

"But are you happy?" She asked him with a smile.

He only laughed, slightly uneasy.

They stepped in to the side entrance of the building of Jeremy's

loft. They climbed several fights of creaking wooden stairs until they came

to the door of his home.

The tiny loft was a cluttered one roomed residence. It was

truly just the attic of the building and perhaps only just in the short past

had been solely used for storage space. On shelves all around the bed along

the walls were books of all sorts about fantasies in far off strange and

magical lands, magical spells, dream definition and other such things like

that.

Jeremy King had a strange fascination with the magick,

superstition and the occult or at least that was one of the observations

about him that Elania had made. .

A few steps down from a small tabernacle like area where a bed and

oak dresser stood and the bookshelves lay was the rest of his home. A tiny

waist high refrigerator stood along the far wall next to a microwave oven and

a sink was in a small concaved area of the wall. There was a table meant for

dining upon but it was cluttered with jars of paints, some of which were

dried out from carelessly being left open over the night. An unfinished

painting canvas standing on the tripod stand stood in the far corner with the

tins of brushes. Sponges and brushes lay in jars with cups of distilled

water near to this. One could tell right a way that this was the home of a

very creative, yet highly disorganized and somewhat absent-minded artist.

Jeremy grabbed the old wooden hand railing and walked up the few

steps to the upper area of the room from the lower portion.

It was at the sound of his footfalls that a small striped cat came

purring, scampering out from under Jeremy's bed. The tiny cat made his way

to Elania and rubbed against her leg.

A broad smile swept across her face. "Oh, I didn't know you had a

cat!"

She reached down and petted the tiny creature. He looked like a

tiny tiger only with a strangely gentle and playful expression about him.

"Oh, yes=E2=80=A6" Slightly embarrassed, Jeremy ran his hand through his

hair. "He was crying his heart out in the back alley about few months ago."

He shrugged. "So I fed him a saucer of milk and he's refused to leave ever

since." He laughed. "I can't seem to be rid of the little bugger but then

again I think that I might have grown to enjoy his company quite a bit."

"Does he have a name?"

Jeremy nodded. "I call him Buttons."

"Why buttons- because he's as cute as a button?" She scooped the

affectionate little fellow up in to her arms.

"Actually no." He pointed to a white, cotton shirt that lay draped

over a chair. "THAT is why I call him buttons!"

She placed the little cat back on to the ground and let him off on

his merry. When she saw the shirt that was draped over the chair she

laughed. At the cuffs the buttons had obviously been torn off. Thin strands

of thread dangled where the buttons had obviously been. Down the shirt's

front three buttons, one at the top, one towards the middle, and one towards

the bottom of the shirt were also missing.

She laughed when she saw the two loose buttons lying on the floor,

shining in the dim lamp light.

"He plucks them off out of spite when I am not here enough or don't

show him enough attention. He pounces on them as they hit the floor. He does

it when I don't give him enough attention. He would do it to any shirt that

I leave lying about. He's a little mischief-maker, all right, rather like a

small goblin only definitely more tidy. And he is by far more intelligent.

=E2=80=A6Smells better too, I would think. I think that is why I have taken such a

liking of the little rascal."

The cat scurried away to chase after a small, transparent rubber

ball that now rolled across the floor.

Elania laughed in delight. The antics if this tiny creature

amused her very much. And she thought that perhaps she should have one of

her own for companionship.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 5

From:

Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:49:56 EDT

Jeremy stood with his arms folded across his chest. He looked ill

for a moment. He was trembling. A part of him, eternally bound to The

Underground he could feel the cold of Tariel of Blackrose's curse of winter

progressing.

Suddenly he felt over whelmed.

He had fought it off with his powers for as long as he possibly

could.

He gripped a hold of the side of a bookshelf. His world was surely

dying and if it died=E2=80=A6 then surely so would he. Could Tariel have truly known

what her bit of mischief making had caused? Would that woman be filled with

so much hatred and contempt for him as to destroy him as well as his reality?

He felt weak. He would have his revenge on her if it were the last thing

that he would do. He looked at Elania.

Something inside of him was screaming. He wished that he were not

Jareth, The Goblin King at ll. He wished that he had not taken such delight

in tormenting his sister-in-law. He wished that he truly could detach

being Jeremy King from Jareth, The Goblin King. He wished that he did not

regret half the things that he had done as Jareth, The Goblin King because he

felt that it was expected of him. He wished that he did not have to live up

to anyone's dark ideals of him. He would have given anything if he did not

have to hide so much of who he truly was and what he truly felt from others.

He fancied a simple, contented life with Elania. And if only=E2=80=A6 If only=E2=80=A6 If

only=E2=80=A6.

He could imagine them living together, in a flat with at least two bedrooms,

and Elania with a newborn baby child in her arms, his child. He perhaps

would have been happy then if only he were not just living the illusion of a

human life. He shut his eyes. The colour was fading from his cheeks. And

he thought just =E2=80=A6If only=E2=80=A6

Elania stepped close to him, looking concerned. "Jeremy, what is

it?"

Wrapping am arm around him to support him she helped him over to his

bed. He lay down. His knees bent and his head was bowed. He was very

nearly in a fetal position. His whole body was trembling with cold. Between

shutters he managed to force out "I.. I feel so cold=E2=80=A6" Jareth, The Goblin

King had always been far to proud to ask for assistance from anyone even if

he truly needed it but in a strained voice he managed to let it pass his

lips. "I'm so cold=E2=80=A6 Help me, please=E2=80=A6"

She touched his cheek. He felt like something sculpted out of ice.

"You're ill."

He shut his eyes. If he was going to die then he would tell her the

truth. "Elania, there is something that I=E2=80=A6 that I have been meaning to tell

you=E2=80=A6"

"Shhh=E2=80=A6." She said. "Rest easy."

His eyes were shut and his breathing became erratic. She had

forbid herself from using magick while here on Earth, she did not wish to

over exert herself, but there was something seriously wrong with him. She

had to do something. She could not just let him die.

He was unconscious at this point and would never know of what she

did or how. She placed her hands to his chest. A faint blue light seemed to

pulsate from out of her fingertips. She sent him a current of warmth to over

power the chill that he felt. She did not know what was truly wrong with

him. She could not quite detect it. It was not a usual disease. Perhaps it

was something neurological? Maybe it was something psychological, that he

believed he was cold, a subconscious meaning for feeling detached from the

rest of this world, perhaps. She did what she could, she sent an impulse in

to him, and though it seemed to have only a small effect she had used a great

deal of her reserved powers to do it. She made him believe and in so feel

that he was warm.

Her powers were extremely limited when she was here on Earth. She

did not know how long the spell would last. She would dare not exert her

powers to their limit while here on Earth. If she did then she might just

find herself forgetting who she truly was and then Tariel of Blackrose would

find herself trapped in her human guise.

Jeremy opened his eyes with a faint smile. He looked up at Elania

who leaned over him. He was warm. He was not so sure as to how this happened

and a part of him did not care.

Reaching up, as if a part of him knew what she had done for him he

wrapped his arms around her.

It was then that on instinct Elania pulled Jeremy's shirt off of

him from over his head. He yielded, raising his arms. She wanted to make

love to him. He could see the expression on her face.

She had no idea what the matter might be with him and if Jeremy

were truly ill then she had no idea as to how much time she might be able to

have with this, her human lover. She did not wish to take him for granted.

He gently reached over to her shirt top and undid the buttons one ata

time. She looked at him with extreme longing. He let the blouse slip from

off of her smooth shoulders. She leaned forward and kissed him deeply and

passionately.

The feel of her soft, subtle lips was like the taste of a fresh peach

to him. He savoured it. His mouth was partially opened as he allowed

himself to taste her sweetness. He did not know how long his release from

Tariel's curse would last. But he felt relieved. And he did not care as to

how long it would last so long as he could have this moment of warmth with

Elania, his mortal lover.

And she was so warm. He pressed himself close to her, wrapping

himself around her, wishing that he could somehow merge in with her. He did

not want to let her go. He allowed himself to use her warmth.

His kiss was strong and deep. It was strangely forceful. If one can

imagine feeling a blow from being smacked by Staten that that is what she

felt just then. And she enjoyed it immensely. She could taste him. His

flesh was warm now. It was no longer icy. And she pressed close in to him.

That was when they finally consigned to their desires.

It was hours of heated intimate passion that passed between them.

It was the most wondrous experience of at least his life. And though he had-

had several intimate relationships with many others in the past there was

something different to this one. Perhaps that was because of the fact that

this time actual love was involved in the matter with the yearnings of

physical lust. He would say now, perhaps that there was more magick in their

intimacy that night that ever there could have been in The Underground.

It was a time of sheer and utter bliss. It was truly the most

fantastic feeling of at least her life. Even as Tariel of Blackrose she had

never submitted herself to physical intimacy with any creature, elven, human

or other. This was the first time that she had ever given herself away and

she was certain that if Jeremy did not know this yet that he could feel it

now. She probably would admit now, perhaps that there had been more magick

in their love making that night that ever there could have been in all of her

realm of Blackrose.

Elania's body pressed against his own hard and poised form. Instinct moved

her where experience naturally failed.

He knew that she had been a virgin. With all of his experiences in

the past he could tell that right away. And he felt like a thief again, the

thief that only he had been as Jareth, The Goblin King. There was something

terribly wrong in taking her now, and like this when in fact she was a virgin

yet. It was amazing and interesting to him that a grown woman, and so

beautiful a creature as this had saved herself this long and now was

willfully handing herself over to him.

It seemed distasteful finally but it felt too wonderful for him to

make himself stop.

His instincts, his desires, they over powered all sense of honour

and reason that he would have liked to repress then anyway. He had taken her

most precious gift that she could possibly offer to him. She was just as he

had fancied. She was precisely as he had dreamt that she would be to him in

this way. She was just as he had hoped that she would be when he had first

found a desire for her.

She felt his caress, so soft and gentle that it was, that she

cried out for more. She shut her eyes, letting her deeper senses take her in

that moment. She allowed the flesh to instruct the mind. She had wanted

this. He had wanted this.

Their two forms, their two minds- their very souls were one and

yet no forbidden secret from either of their minds was opened to be revealed

to the other. They were entwined in one and other, riding out the greatest

dreams. It was absolute perfection. It was sheer and utter bliss. Truly,

it was.

Their clothing lay scattered about on the floor of the room. And he

felt free then. He felt completely free from everything as Jareth, The

Goblin King. And he wished, with a deep aching and sorrow that he truly was

free from all of that now and forever. He knew that he was not.

He had needed Elania that night more then anything, more then even he

would ever know. They had spent most of that night together. They took

their time with it all, savouring every moment of it. It was a strong

intimate time. He thought that he had kept it up actually rather well. This

was something to be remembered. This was something to be cherished.

He would not let her go. This time he had made her his own. He had

won. Then why did he feel so terrible about it all now? Had not this been

his goal all along- to have her- to conquer her? Oh, in deed it was

wonderful but=E2=80=A6 he suddenly realized that he wanted more then this. And that

came as a complete surprise to him. He truly was in love with her.

This time he had thought that he was simply looking out for himself.

Who the Hell was he trying to fool? I loved her and he would perhaps die for

her in circumstances were ever to prove there a need to be.

Exhausted, nearing dawn she fell asleep on his chest. He could hear

their heartbeats calming down, beating as one unit where moments before they

had been racing. And he shut his eyes as she lay on top of him with his arms

wrapped around her, his hand on the naked small of her back and he slept. And

it was the first real contented sleep of his entire life.

They were a mesh of flesh, intertwining in each other's embrace as

the sun shown down from the skylight on top of them both. Carefully Elania

slipped from Jeremy's arms. He was still fast asleep.

She slipped off of the bed, her bare feet creaking the hard wood

floor ever so slightly. She reached down for her blouse that now transformed

in to the royal gown of a queen.

She was about ready to place this on when something stirred in the

pile of fabric. She leapt back. She feared almost that it was one of

Jareth's small, filthy, repulsive, little goblins that had been spying on

her. She feared that somehow The Goblin King had found out her darkest

secret of her slipping off from her royal duties to play a mortal woman.

Her heart racing in her chest, as if he could feel her anxiety

Jeremy stirred in his sleep, moaning just slightly. He was still deeply

asleep, as he turned on his side. His thin, pale, naked form was somehow

alluring in the glow of early morning daylight.

Out of the bundle of silk the tiny form of Buttons, Jeremy's chat

came out with a playful "Mew."

Placing her hand to her chest she laughed quietly in relief. "You

little devil."

Buttons began to nibble and then pull at one of the buttons on the

sleeve of her gown. In a moment the button was off the cuff and rolling

across the floor. She laughed again despite herself. "You little beast!"

As the cat chased after the button, attempting to pounce on it

she quickly placed on the gown and stepped over to the mirror that hung on

the far back wall of the room.

Looking at her own reflection, like liquid the changes came. Her

eyes became slightly larger and more feline in appearance. She was now just

a few inches shorter in height. She was also slightly thinner, her bone

structure seeming to be more fragile. Her child like features seemed more

elven as they replaced her human expression. Her hair hung longer now and

just a shade darker. Curling slightly down her back.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 6

From:

Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:50:21 EDT

It was nearing dusk in The Underground. On Earth it was still early

yet. Elania had left but all to abruptly, not even staying to have a

breakfast with him. But he understood that she had been busy. It was

chilly here but the cold did not quite bother him as much s it should have.

It had been snowing all day and only now did it stop. The walls of the

northern section of The Labyrinth were entirely covered in a blanket of

white, making that entire section of Labyrinth look like a vast plane of

snow, covered in dunes of white. Now the eastern section of The Labyrinth

was nearly buried. Only about two feet of wall remained exposed down the

passages.

Goblins cried and screamed. They were uncertain of what was happening

or why their master did nothing to stop it.

Jareth sat on the window ledge, his cape draped around him, it's high

out-curved collar protecting him from the bitter wind that even could

penetrate any and all magick that he used to try and stop it.

In the large fireplace across the room a roaring blaze burned. It

was the only true warmth left in the entire castle.

He turned when he felt a presence behind him. In a burst of blue

light Tariel of Blackrose appeared.

In her hand she carried a high staff with triangular crystal

mounted on it's top. She wore a long gown of light blue silk. He took

notice of her hand that carried the staff. A button was missing from the

cuff of her gown's sleeve. From the way the loose thread hung where the

button should have been he laughed inwardly. It looked like something that

Buttons would have done. He did love that little scamp.

"Oh, what is the matter, Jareth? I thought you would enjoy seeinga

world as bitterly frozen as your own heart and sense of compassion Aren't

you enjoying the cold, Jareth?" Tariel asked him cynically.

"Oh, about as much as I am going to enjoy killing you as you sleep

tonight, half-breed."

She knew not take that threat seriously. "Kill me and the spell can

never be broken, Goblin King."

Suddenly he caught notice of something else most extraordinary.

From behind Tariel's leg came a small white kitten. The small female cat

looked up at Jareth with large, curious green eyes.

"What is THAT THING doing here?!?" Jareth looked horror struck.

"This THING is my familiar." She looked down at the cat. "Now,

isn't that right, darling?" She said to the cat.

"You must be mad bring that THING in here!"

"Of course you would not like her, Jareth. She's not a filthy,

reeking, stupid, drooling creature with the attention span of a flea!"

"It's not that I don't like cats, Tariel. I love them."

"Oh, I bet of course you do." She said sarcastically.

"It's just that-" He was interrupted by the sight of it. He

smacked a hand over his face and let it run down, his finger on his own

cheek.

A large, feathered goblin with the snout of a fox and the tale of a

weasel with tiny bat wings on it's back lunged at the cat.

The little white kitten gave off a terrible cry and leapt in to

Tariel's arms.

The goblin fell flat on it's face and hissed.

"Jareth!?!" Tariel looked both mortified and disgusted.

"I tired to warn you, Tariel! Cats are scarce in The Underground

for a reason! Many goblins EAT cats and they do not care who they belong to!

Their attention spans are too short to remember that!"

"How utterly revolting! You disgust me, Jareth!"

"Oh, go haunt someone else, half- breed!"

A fresh burst of electrical light and energy hit Jareth full force

in the chest. He cried out in frustration and sent a current of magick right

back in her direction but she had already disappeared with her cat.

Why couldn't Tariel be more thoughtful and understanding like

Elania? How wonderful it would be, he thought, if Elania was The Queen of

Blackrose and he did not have to tolerate the presence of Tariel at all.

Elania finished her performance as usual at the nightclub. As she

sipped her ice water at the bar of the nightclub Richi suddenly grabbed her

arm.

She gasped.

"Why are you doing this to me, Elania? You never give me the right

time of day but I always see you with the scrubby little artist!"

She pulled away from him. "His name is Jeremy. And he's a Hell of

a lot more of a man then you will ever be."

"I love you! When will you understand this?"

"No, you know nothing about me, Richi. You are obsessed with me

but that is not love."

"And that that 'artist' can do better for you then, I suppose?"

"Richi! I don't love you! Now, leave me alone! This time I

mean it!"

"But I do love you! How can you presume to tell me what 'I"

feel? Come on, Elania! That scrubby little artist can't even afford to feed

his own cat."

She looked at Richi, startled. "How did you know he has a cat?

Have you been following us?"

He did not answer but gave a strange smile.

"You just keep away from us! I do NOT love you! You know

NOTHING about me or who I really am!"

"And I suppose that gutter rat knows EVERYTHING about you?"

She frowned. There were things about her that she would dare not

even tell Jeremy, no matter how understanding he seemed. "He knows more

about me then you ever will. You know NOTHING about me! I don't love you,

Richi, Get over it! Now, if you excuse me, I have plans for this evening."

Elania walked out of the nightclub, her usual knapsack over her

shoulder. "If I ever catch you following is, Richi I will be forced to call

the authorities."

He called out after her but it was too late. Either she did not

hear him or she did not want to hear him.

"I know more about you then you realize, Elania! ELANIA!!!"

Richi clenched his teeth to keep from screaming out in

frustration. How dare she tell him what he felt? He was certain that he was

in love with her. And she deserved far better then that pathetic low-life,

Jeremy King! He threw a shot glass at the wall. It shattered.

In Jeremy's loft Elania laughed. She was already a little giddy from

the white wine.

"Really, I swear it."

"But no one can be that daft as to bring a pet mouse with them in to

an animal shelter filled with hungry cats."

"Well, I'm telling you this woman honestly did. I was right there.

And she did not think anything would happen. When one of the cats tried to

pounce on her pet that she dared to keep loose no less, she blamed me for it!"

Elania was nearly hysterical with laughter..

"And=E2=80=A6" Suddenly Jeremy paused in their lighthearted

conversation. He stepped over to the window. "There's someone in the back

alley-way. I can hear them."

Elania placed down her wineglass on to the table and stepped beside him.

Suddenly a loud bang was heard from the first floor. Somewhere in

the near distance one of Jeremy's neighbors screamed out "FIRE!"

There was a frantic pounding on the door. Jeremy rushed to answer

it.

He opened it wide to see one of his neighbors. It was a young woman

wearing tattered shorts and a black shirt. "There's a fire on the first

floor, you had better get out of the building while you still can. The fire

department is on it's way now!" She ran down the flight of stairs.

Jeremy looked out in to the hall. The flames were rising quickly.

They swept over most of the first floor already and were now racing up the

stairs where his neighbor had just run past.

The heavy, thick stench of the smoke was increasing rapidly.

He slammed the door and ran in to the conjoined room. He quickly ran

the bath tap.

"Jeremy what are you doing? We have to get out now!"

"I'm ensuring your safety!"

Once he was sure that the tub was filled with icy water he grabbed

up his jacket from off the back of a chair where he had draped it and dropped

it in to the icy water.

Quickly he draped the, cold soaked jacket over Elania's head.

"Go on, now!"

He tried to shove her out the door now.

"But I can't leave you!"

"I'll be right behind you! Just go!"

Elania rushed down the stairs, through the rising flames, finding

that she was barely touched if at all by them. She made it out the side

entrance of the building to the street. When she saw that Jeremy was not

with her she ran back inside the burning building, still with the jacket

partially draped over her head. She held it tightly as if it could protect

her from the ever-increasing flames.

Out the open sky light Jeremy released Buttons. "You know where to

go, now move!" He said to the cat as of ordering one of his minions as

Jareth, The Goblin King. Buttons looked at him as if he understood what he

had said. The cat leapt across the roof and then jumped on to the near by

roof of the neighboring building and from there he made his way gracefully

down the fire escape of that building. There was no proper fire escape to

this building.

Now, Jareth, keeping his guise as Jeremy King forced out a bit of

magick, attempting to conserve it as best he can and used it to protect

himself from the licking and lapping flames as he raced down the stairs.

His eyes burned. Tears were uncontrollably welling in his eyes as

he choked and gagged from the smoke. The flames licked at his legs, slapping

at him.

Elania stood in the doorframe. "Come on!"

"I thought I told you to wait outside!"

They both paused. There came the distinct sound of baby wailing

from behind a door just to Jeremy's left.

"That's Mrs. Hayes', the land lady's apartment. She was looking

after her niece, Whimsy!" Jeremy said over the sound of the roaring fire.

The doorknob was burning hot so he was forced to kick open the

door. Trying to move quickly he found the baby sitting in it's high chair.

He unfastened the child from it's seat and handed the baby over to Elania who

never did leave his side. The fire had spread in to the back room of this

apartment.

"Get Whimsy out of here!" He cried.

"But what about you?"

"Mrs. Hayes would never leave Whimsy alone. I have to find her!"

He looked to the bedroom where one could easily see the harsh orange

glow of mounting flames.

"Jeremy, she's probably dead! It's no good! The fire department is

on it's way! We have to get out of here now!"

"GET THE BABY OUT NOW, ELANIA!" He screamed. The baby screamed

against Elania's breast. "Take the baby and go! Come on, move!" He cried as

if commanding her, something that was alien to the tone and mannerisms of

Jeremy King but recognizable as something that Jareth, The Goblin King would

do .

Reluctantly she ran from the building once again, this time carrying

the baby, knowing that she could not risk the child's life.

The bed was covered in flames. The thin form of the frail old

woman lay on the floor just beside the dresser. He had never cared for Mrs.

Hayes all too much as a human being. A part of him screamed at himself to

just leave her there. In fact Jareth, The Goblin King more then likely would

have left the woman there but he just had to get her out of there.

She had always been a bitter, cross old woman. She had a deep

distaste for him and an obvious distrust, perhaps even a resentment of him

for Heaven knows what. He knew that if he were to leave her there that his

life more then likely in this form be far simpler but he could not do that.

He simply could not do that.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 7

From:

Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:51:42 EDT

Kneeling over Mrs. Hayes' motionless form he grabbed the wrist and

felt for a pulse. She was dead. He could not find a heartbeat.

"Mrs. Hayes! Come on, you old bat! Don't do this!" He had to

find a way to bring her around but the only way he could do that is out side,

away from the billowing smoke and the hot, flames licking and lapping at the

burning walls. He reached a hand under the old woman's light frame.

Suddenly he heard the sound of wood cracking from above him.

Small sparks of flame fell around them from the rafters. He looked up, a

burning plank of wood that had been a narrow rafter now dangled above them

perilously.

Before he could think to move the plank fell loose crashing down on

top of him. The blow to the head had been too much. His entire body smacked

down hard against the floor.

He tried to keep conscious but it was all in vain. His head was

swimming. He could not keep his eyes open. The pain to the back of his head

had been too much. He felt dizzy. He could not focus his thoughts clearly

enough even to just transport himself back to The Underground safely.

The flames were drawing in. He tried to breathe. The smoke and flames

surrounded him.

He felt the heat against his cheek as he lay on the ground. His

eyes shut. He tried to struggle against the on coming darkness but it was

too much for him. He could not hold out.

The cool night air scraped against the tender burns on his arms.

There were lights around him. He could hear the scrambled sounds of many

human voices all talking at once. The flashing red and blue lights

surrounded him. He lay against something soft. He was outside. The fire

had been extinguished. He could smell the dampness in the air from the fire

hoses and the lingering scent of burnt wood and smoke.

Elania had stood by helplessly with the baby in her arms as the

fire fighters had carried out Jeremy's unconscious form. She had thought for

certain that he had been killed in the inferno. Now she stood very close as

his eyes slowly fluttered open, wincing in the bright lights.

"He's coming around!" Said a man in a long jacket standing over

him. :"Rest easy, sir. Everything is going to be all right now. We're going

to take you to the emergency room at the county hospital."

He sat up with a jolt. "Elania!"

She took his hand. "I'm here, Jeremy."

The man spoke up. "Sir, you really should try and lay down.

You had a nasty hit to the head."

He did not need to be told that Mrs. Hayes was dead. He

already knew it. When he had first found her he knew that there more then

likely would be no resuscitating her.

Jeremy climbs to his feet, a little shakily. "I'll be fine."

"Sir, you really should be examined, you could have a concussion or-"

"I said that I'll be fine, what part of that do you not

understand?"

A woman with a hard expression came towards them. With one hand she

took the baby from Elania's arms. It was Mrs. Hayes' sister. With her free

hand she smacked Jeremy across the face. "Murderer! You killed her! You did

this! You set this up, I know you did!"

Elania spoke up on Jeremy's defense. "I was with him as the fire

broke out!"

"He's always hated her! She always said that there was something

not right about Him!"

A man emerged from the shadows, his face was hidden by the hood of

his light, spring jacket. He quietly lead Angela Hayes away. She was

obviously mad with grief. "No! No!" She cried. "He did it! I know he

did! He killed her!"

Jeremy's loft had remained undamaged by the fire and Buttons did

as he had been told. The cat was found waiting on the hood of a parked car

across the street. Once everything was completely settled and Jeremy had

managed to convince everyone present that he was perfectly all right Jeremy

slipped off, disappearing back to The Underground as Jareth, The Goblin King.

Jareth stood in his bedchamber. The sun was shining. The air was

warm. Tariel's curse had been broken. He looked out over the castle's

courtyard. The roses were beginning to bud. The curse of perpetual winter

had been broken but this meant that he had to finally acknowledge that as

Jeremy King or as Jareth, The Goblin King he was still the same person. What

he had done in that fire as Jeremy King had broken the spell that had been

set on Jareth, The Goblin King. He had hidden and revealed different aspects

of who he was in his guise as Jeremy King but he was still one and the same.

And he had to accept this or he would truly lose his mind in this charade.

Tariel sat in her bedchamber in Blackrose. She sat brushing out her

long dark hair. She stopped abruptly. A tingling sensation came in to

Tariel abruptly. A spell that she had woven was broken. Jareth, The Goblin

King somehow had committed a selfless act. But how was this possible?

The eyes=E2=80=A6 She should have realized it with their eyes. How could

she have not seen it before? He had been so very cold the night before=E2=80=A6 And

then there were those distinct eyes. Jareth had those same exact eyes.

Jeremy WAS Jareth!

He frowned as he stirred the combined colours. He could not quite get

the right shade of indigo. He looked again at the painting. He wished with

all his heart that Elania were there to pose for this. He had a clear

memory, very nearly photographic but trusting only in his memories and

imagination did not quite appease him. He wished that she were there with

him.

A flash of light filled the room. Jeremy turned around abruptly.

Elania stood with her arms folded.

"How did you get in here?" He knew that she had not used the door.

He had not heard her open the door and he had not heard her walking up the,

terribly singed, faire damaged staircase. She had just appeared. For a slit

moment he could swear that magick must have been involved but his second and

most logical thought was that he had been breathing in too much of the paint

fumes again.

"How dare you?" She cried.

He looked at her blankly. What was the matter with her?

"How dare you? Why did you do it? Did you think it was great fun-

toying with me like that?"

He took a step backward. "I don't understand."

"The Hell you don't, Jareth!" She stepped close to him and smacked

him hard across the face. Her hand struck him like a jolt of lighting. A

bright flash and then the colour purple flashed before his eyes. His cheek

throbbed as if he had just been struck a mighty blow. From the feel of it he

could almost swear that her hand still rested where she had struck him.

He stared at her. He was stunned. He was completely dumbfounded.

He certainly had not expected that at all.

The second major shock to him was that she had just called him by

his real name. How had She known? What was really happening here?

The image of Elania melted away. Her hair lengthened and curled

slightly. Her features became more feline, more catlike. She seemed to have

a more child like expression to her. Her eyes were larger and brighter.

There were distinctly elven features to her. And then he saw that before his

eyes Elania had evaporated, leaving behind only Tariel of Blackrose.

His moth hung open. No words came to him. He looked her in utter

surprise. "You!"

And then the two said at once, both missing the human other.

"How can you do this to me?"

"You? How could 'I' Do this to 'you'?" Jareth said as he

transformed in to his true self. His dark cape with the high collar flaring

around him.

"You mean to tell me that you didn't know?" She seemed both

skeptical and surprised at the idea though the look of shock on Jareth's face

was far too genuine.

"No!" He paced for a moment. "My God! =E2=80=A6After all this time!

My God! I've been doing this-" He gestured around the loft, meaning the

life as Jeremy King. "-for years!"

Tariel sat down with an exaggerated sigh. She turned away from him to

hide her tears. She had truly been in love with Jeremy but she hated Jareth,

The Goblin King! "How can this be?" She asked. She turned and looked at

him with pain in her eyes. "How can it be that the one man I love and the one

man I hate are one and the same?"

:"I could ask a very similar question of you but I won't."

"Then Jeremy DID love Elania?"

"Oh, yes. He still does, with all of his heart." He stepped

towards her, surprised that he still felt the same. What was wrong with him?

He must have been mad!

Knowing that she loathed Jareth as much as he felt resentment towards

Tariel he transformed himself back in to the image of the artist, Jeremy King

and stepped towards her.

Yielding to her own fantasy Tariel transformed in to Elania

and took a step forward. He pressed a finger to her mouth and said "Shhhh=E2=80=A6.

No one has to know the matters of the lives to two=E2=80=A6 ordinary mortals."

She smiled at him, already understanding the game. They would be

the human couple for their own fantasies. And no one would take that away

from them..

The passing weeks came and went, turning in to months as they were

passing quickly like a player on the stage of life. The vampire, time worked

it's forbidden dance and Jeremy and Elania had managed to continue on in

staying together. Entering paintings in to art shows and watching each other

sing the two seemed inseparable. And they both shared that incredible,

forbidden secret.

There was peace in the other worlds, between The Underground and

Blackrose. Tariel and Jareth rarely ever interacted anymore but once in a

while Elania would bring up a discussion about an elven Queen or Jeremy would

mention a qualm that Jareth, The Goblin King had with a treaty that he had

been asked to sign by the Queen of Blackrose. All and all it was in great

fun. They never confused their alternate lives with the lives of their true

selves until one day it was all forced to fall down around them=E2=80=A6.

In the form of the white owl Jareth, The Goblin King flew over the

city

The large buildings below him seemed to reach up for the heavens

unable to touch the realm that he stole as his own while in that preferred

form for Earthly transportation.

He felt the icy December wind rushing under his belly. The wind

stirred his feathers though never disturbing them from their setting in his

light owl self.

It was nearing the time of dusk and as the faint, hazy light

dimmed in the graying sky his eyes widened, adjusting rapidly to the

darkness. It appeared that it might snow this night. He felt the chill in

the air. It was crisp and pure, clean and frosty, not at all like a winter

in The Underground and definitely far more inviting then that perpetual

winter that he had very nearly been cursed to.

It always seemed that winters in The Underground were dreary and

the dust layered the land as much as the frost, which was not very much at

all usually anyway.

He flew gracefully, enjoying himself and his freedom, the one

thing that he cherished and would cherish more then any power that he could

hold in his own realm and over another.

There are few things that Jareth had ever truly held dear to

himself; the first thing is power and control. His life would be in total

chaos if he did not possess just a little of that. The second thing that

Jareth cherished dearly was his freedom. He also cherished his reason and

ability to think and act as he saw fit. He also held dear to him the ability

to love and care for another, something, which he as Jareth, The Goblin King

did seldom at all but he, knew that he was fully capable of doing. Jeremy

did love and care dearly for Elania. But why was it so difficult for Jareth

to do the same? And then there was that little matter=E2=80=A6. Did He, inany form

truly love Tariel of Blackrose?

He also loved the power to create, his magick and natural talents

granted him this with music, song, and his enchantments. He also held dear

to him humanity, believe it or not, that enjoyable and unpredictable race of

sometimes=E2=80=A6 quite often foolish beings that never ceased to amaze orentrance

him. He would watch with awe in wonder as again and again as they would

destroy or change his conceptions of what he had thought them out to be once

he had conceived of a belief that he knew totally that they were. They would

shatter his ideas about their world again and again and then rebuild it in to

something far more interesting then he had first thought it out to be.

Perhaps that was also why he took such great pleasure in playing Jeremy King.

It was fantastic to watch that ever-changing society and those

lovely individuals who would break the pre-fabricated conformist sentiments

that he had seen arise with a fear of change.

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 8

From:

Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:52:52 EDT

It was indeed a shame that for over one thousand years he had not been

a part of that world. It had always been hard for him to be an outsider;

though being the unquestioned ruler of his own realm had filled the void with

shallow materialism for quite some time. The only thing that had ever calmed

the flame of hunger that burned from within him for these people and their

world that he had no control in was the strange fantasy of being the simple

mortal, Jeremy who stood in love with the beautiful mortal woman, Elania.

This still the restlessness that existed within him.

He flew. Flying as the white owl was an escape for him. It was

freedom. It was a freedom from everything. It was a freedom from his

responsibilities. It was a freedom from his own existence. It was a freedom

from everything that he had ever done and would regret though would never

admit out loud.

He loved the feeling of the cool, clean, icy breeze under him. He

watched from his lonely position in the skies, over seeing the human world as

if it were truly his own. What a lie that was! But even he had the right to

pretend, to imagine... to try to=E2=80=A6 dream. The day was fading fast from the

sky. Dusk had come and night was settling a shadowy blanket over all.

As the night set in and the darkness deepened- adding depth to the

faintest shadows he felt a torture, a longing, a desire. He wanted something

more other then this masquerade game on Earth as he and his lover played with

illusions and disguises. He was aching inside, and flying, as the owl was

his only chance. It was his freedom, his escape. It was rather like a drug,

or one of his peaches. It helped him to at least for a time forget

everything, though it's effects never did really last long enough. He was

flying as the wise, and white owl more often then he usually would of late.

And he remembered an old myth that an owl is born with all his questions

answered. And he did wish that all his questions were answered, they

remained as they seemed to forever be unresolved.

. He had to let it all go. He had to drop away his regrets and

broken promises that he had had made to himself. He had wanted to show

Elania her dreams He had wanted to do that in the hopes that she would grant

somehow grant him his own dreams for once, his lost dreams of what he had

taken for granted and given up in his true human, mortal youth. But that had

been before his birthright had turned it all, his life, his world upside

down. He had not been given a choice in being made the ruler of those...

those wretched THINGS!

And he wished that he could in fact be truly Jeremy King,

completely free and detached from being Jareth, The Goblin King and forget

everything of who he had been.

But he had to let that all go now. As the owl he was free. He was

happy. He was not Jareth, The Goblin King. He was simply the white barn owl

flying over humanity, never touching it, not really at any rate,

understanding it somewhat and yet not caring. Detachment! Again, a lie! No

one can ever truly be detached because emotions are only repressed, and they

can burst out like a dam flooding at any given time. And you can try to deny

others but no one; not even he could deny his own emotions.

Well, he had spread his wings, and for hours he was soaring, never

really tiring. He had taken flight. He did not wish to land.

The past was gone. He had to look for the future. If he lived in

the past then he would not have today or tomorrow, just yesterday- a dead

thing.

He could still be free. He prayed that time would set him free- free

from everything. He was not fit to rule the goblins. He was willing to admit

that now. He had a human mind, a HUMAN mind, an immortal form yes, but still

a HUMAN mind! =E2=80=A6And with that, human needs and desires. And he ached for

that human life that he would pretend to have as Jeremy King. He was

actually envious of the character he portrayed in the human society. He felt

contempt towards Jeremy King that he could not ACTUALLY be him.

He was empty inside. There was darkness within him. He was=E2=80=A6

lonely. =E2=80=A6But there was always Elania, she understood it all or rather Tariel

did. But he did not love Tariel, did he?

There was some sort of light trapped inside his own inner darkness

that no one could see, an ability to really love as Jareth, The Goblin King.

But then again everything that he did as Jeremy King he was perfectly capable

of doing as Jareth, The Goblin King. It was simply that as Jeremy King he

felt that he did not have to live up to any one's dark ideals, or

antagonistic expectations of him. It was growing to be his personal belief

that a man his least himself when he talks in his own person. If you would

give him a mask he would tell you the truth.

Life for him was becoming some horrible masquerade dance. And

everyone, he believed in any world wears a mask. The first face is the face

that you wear for others. The second face is the image of the person that

you would truly like to be, and the third face and the hardest one to face is

the face of who you truly are. He was groping to hate masks. He wanted to

see beyond the illusions and lies. He wanted to face the truth. It is always

best to face true darkness as opposed to false light. If you wrap yourself

in a blanket if deception you will be left cold for one day it will be torn

away from you.

Somehow this masquerade had started before him. He had allowed himself

to partake of illusions as he wore his disguise. His only love was in facta

stranger that he thought he had hated. He scorned the truth for the first

time in his life, he truly needed the lies.

He flew higher and higher, trying to let go of everything but the

universe spreading out before him as the thick, polluted, damp city air

thinned around him.

He was at least for the moment free. He could forget it all. He

flew higher then the mountains, reaching for the moon and the stars beyond

the heavy clouds. He flew where the wind was strong and the air was weak, if

that can be described somehow. He was free to fly tonight.

He looked down once more at the large city, far below him; still able

to see and hear it perfectly with the owl's heightened senses.

He loved the stirring of the brown, dead leaves that crunched under

the feet of those, at least six and a half yards under him who passed by

along the busy, crowded streets. They were hustling and bustling, shopping

and cheering at the simple joys of the holiday season, making merriment in

the bitter weather. Ah, a remarkable and perseverant race, humanity. He had

grown to realize just how perseverant the human nature can be and how that

nature can in fact sacrifice, evolve, change, and suffer for others.

He held as the owl the freedom from being an immortal living among

imbecilic goblins. He was an immortal, true enough but he still held a human

mind filled with human desires and at one time, once upon a time a long, long

time ago it had even been filled with his own dreams. Ah, the dreams of

youth are the regrets of maturity. But how does one know when he is mature

enough when he will live indefinitely with the same form as humans come and

go, age and die before him? And how is one to know when he is mature enough

when he watches a world that is not his own from his own shabby little world

that hardly anyone has penetrated or understood?

God, how he longed for that woman, Elania. . And in the strangest and

simplest ways she had understood him and mirrored his own nature.

A few hours, just a few hours for him to be away from The

Underground, that was all that he had wanted. A few hours, was what all that

he had wanted, just a few hours away from The Underground.

All he wanted was this short little amount of time, free and away

from everyone and every thing that he was used to.

He was happy and as the curse of his own existence said, this would

not last for very long. Sure enough his moment of bliss passed rapidly by.

A bright light engulfed him suddenly. A split came moment

before he realized where he was and what was happening. As Jareth, The

Goblin King in his true form he appeared in the center of a pentangle, drawn

in white chalk on the ground. At each point of the pentangle a candle

burned.

The next moment Jareth was on his knee. He was grabbing at the floor.

It was a hard wood floor.

He opened wide his eyes and realized instantly that he was in a

small, dark room somewhere. An older woman stood with a white candle in one

hand and a hardbound red book in her other hand. He recognized her

immediately to be Angela Hayes. She was chanting something. The last lines

were the only things clear to him. "Jareth, king of the goblins, let the

powers bind to hold thee, I hereby invoke thee."

Realizing almost instantly that she had cast a spell to invoke him

using forces beyond his own powers he stood up. He was definitely there on

Earth. He looked down and realized that under his feet where he was standing

was an herbal mixture that she had used in the summoning. It looked like a

mixture of raven's blood, a shredded owl's feather, a shattered glass or

crystal=E2=80=A6 Was that one of his own? It was also mixed with a glittering

substance, the sparkling dust that always settles when he is called to Earth,

the material manifestation of the physical transference from dimensions.

He was standing in a pentangle drawn in white chalk. At each point

of the star that he stood in the middle of there was a candle. In front of

him at the point of the star was a blue candle representing the spirit. To

his right, at this point of the star facing directly east was a gray candle

representing the element of water. Behind him to the south point of the star

was the red candle representing the element of fire. To the opposite of this

one, the northern point of the star was a yellow candle representing Earth.

A very light blue candle stood to his left representing spirit.

This star with the five burning candles was drawn in white chalk inside a

drawn circle. Just outside the circle on the ground lay a white handled

dagger, the knife the woman had used to cast the circle.

Angela Hayes placed down her book and candle and looked at him with

extreme hatred. Several feet behind her stood a man but he stood with a hood

drawn over his face. Jareth did not have to see the face of the man. He

already knew who it was. It was a surprise to him that he knew magick but he

knew that it was Richi. And he also knew that Richi was the one who had set

the building ablaze. He would have sought out Richi long ago with magick to

try and seek revenge on his attempted murder but somehow his magick had been

unable to find him and know he knew why finally. Richi dabbled in magick

that could block against his own.

Stepping forward Jareth spoke up in a demanding tone. "What is the

meaning of this?"

Richi stepped forward and pulled down his hood. It was not at all a

surprise to Jareth to see who it was.

"Hello, your 'highness'."

Jareth attempted to step outside of the pentangle but he found that

he was trapped with in it. It was as if an invisible barrier stood within

the outer limits of the circle of the pentangle.

In frustration Jareth point his hand outward and sent a blast of

magick at Richi.

In a quick, defensive motion Richi placed up his hands and the current

ricocheted back towards Jareth.

Jareth ducked quickly to see that the blast had shattered a glass vase that

stood on a shelf several feet behind him.

"When I get my hands on you I am going to tear your bloody heart

out!" Jareth screamed.

Richi laughed heartily. "You have no chance of doing that. The

only way you can leave the borders of that pentangle is if someone who loves

you wholly for who you are, completely takes you by your hand and helps you

out of it. And of course you must also love that one equally as much or you

will both die in the effort. And I don't think anyone does that. You've

been living a doubled life for so long I doubt that YOU even know who you are

completely!"

Richi turned and looked at Angela. "You get what you want and I

shall gain my desire."

Jareth glared at Angela coldly. She smirked at him. "Splendid."

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) Part 9

From:

Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:53:29 EDT

Elania waited at the nightclub. He was already twenty minutes

late. He was rarely late if ever at all and usually with reason. She could

think of the last few excuses that he had provided. "So sorry, love, Jareth

had a slight problem with a fairy that demanded that she was pregnant with

his love child- meanwhile the fairy is only six inches tall." And then there

was "Oh, I am terribly sorry, The Goblin King was off paying a visitation to

one of those delightful little mortal girls that still worship him." There

was also "Oh, well, someone dropped Jareth's 'great' advisor in to The Bog of

Eternal Stench." And there was her all time favourite where he would clear

his throat and then quietly butter "umm=E2=80=A6 his tights ripped=E2=80=A6in a rather

unbecoming spot."

She giggled lightly to herself at the thought of it.

A shadow loomed over her suddenly. Someone stood behind her. She

felt uncomfortable suddenly. She could tell already from the sensation that

she felt that it was not Jeremy King.

"He's not coming." Said the distinctive voice of Richi.

She turned around and looked at him curiously. "Not coming? What do

you mean he's not coming?"

"Well, you know royalty. And he IS royalty. They always find some

reason for not keeping engagements."

Her eyes went wide. He knew who Jeremy King was and for certain that

must have meant that he in fact knew also who she was.

He grabbed Elania roughly by the arm. "Don't attempt anything." He

said quietly. "You mustn't give the game away. I have a gun in my right

pocket and I can assure you that I can reach it long before you can use any

of your unnatural abilities. I you are shot and then suddenly heal by the

aid of your magick in front of all the people in this nightclub then your

game is over so I suggest you come along with me now."

Reluctantly Elania walked with him outside of the nightclub. He shoved

her in to the back seat of a car. There was a driver in the front seat

waiting for them.

As they pulled away out of his jacket pocket Richi pulled out what

looked to be an ancient dagger made of iron. It's tip was stained in a rust

coloured substance. It appeared to be an ancient weapon.

"This is what is called a hyne's blood dagger. Legend has it that

long ago it was stained in the blood of a mystical creature known as a hyne

and the hyne's blood can kill ANY creature. Shall we give it a try?

Hmm=E2=80=A6Tariel?"

Allowing her disguise to melt away she sat with her arms folded,

bold. She refused to say a word but knew as she had always known the legends

about the blood of the hyne being true. And she also knew that the dagger

that he held most likely had been stained in the blood of such a creature.

No one would attempt such an elaborate bluff especially against someone who

could kill him in twelve seconds flat out.

Richi dragged her along in to the building. Once they were in the

room with the bed he slammed the door shut behind him and then locked it up

tight. Holding the dagger poised Richi with a mad glint in his eyes spoke.

"I love you! You know I do! Why did you give me NOTHING in return?!?!

Why?!?" He pressed close to her with the dagger. "But now.. but now=E2=80=A6" He

laughed insanely. "Now you will be my wife!"

Jareth stood in the barriers of the pentangle. There was no where

that he could go. He was grateful that what held him within the pentangle

was invisible otherwise he would have become very claustrophobic by now.

Jareth had never been inside of an enclosed space for very long and he was

becoming quickly agitated.

The woman, Angela who had taken to tormenting him threw a knife at

his head. He quickly ducked to see it hit the wall behind him.

"You bastard! You will pay for what you have done to my sister!" She said.

"I am not the one who killed her, you're a bleeding psychopath, that's

what you are. ! I TRIED TO SAVE HER! Break this spell! Release me! Now!

I warn you or then WILL be Hell to play!"

She raised an eyebrow. "And why would 'The Goblin King' want to

save someone who obviously held a distaste for him? Why would 'The Goblin

King' want to save ANYONE?'"

Richi advanced on Tariel and pushed her shirt off of her right

shoulder. He rubbed his hand on her shoulder. "Oh, you are so beautiful.

Why did you have to make it like this? Why did you have to be so difficult?

I love you!:

Tariel spoke up. "Rich, listen to me. Do you really think that

I can love you like this? You don't really love me. You are obsessed with

me. If you loved me then you would let me go."

"Oh, but I do- I do love you! Don't you understand. In the words of

your 'true love' "Everything I've done I've done for you.' Why can't you see

that? I love you so much=E2=80=A6"

He grabbed her shoulders and tried to push her on to the bed but in

doing so this gave her enough time to move. Making herself quickly disappear

she appeared behind him.

Finding that he was gripping the air Richi stumbled on to the bed At

this Tariel quickly grabbed his arm that held the dagger and forced it behind

his back.

Richi cried out. He was half-afraid and half in pain.

"Now," Said Tariel as she grabbed the dagger off the floor with a

sweep of her free hand and now held it quickly to his throat "I have this

feeling that you know where Jeremy=E2=80=A6 I mean Jareth is! Where is he, Richi?"

Richi laughed. "You don't love HIM! You love your ideal you made with

Jeremy King! He means nothing to you and I can prove it. You only love the

thought of Jeremy and in that you will never have him!"

"Where is he?" Asked Tariel through clenched teeth as she pressed

the dagger in to his throat so that he could feel the edge of the blade

against his flesh.

Jareth was tired of the futile efforts of trying to convince Angela

Hayes that he ACTUALLY had good intentions

A few feet back in the room the thin form of Jareth squatted within

the barriers of the pentangle. He did not bother to move at all. He did not

seem acknowledge that anyone else was in the room.

His hands rested on his knees. His thick blond hair tangled in his

face. He was looking down so that all Elania saw of his head was his mop of

thick blond hair. Perhaps he was too ashamed of his situation to look up at

his captor.

"Jareth!" Tariel cried as she rushed over towards the pentangle. She

placed the dagger, hanging it by it's hand guard in to her sash that she wore

around the waist line of her dress.

"No!" Jareth cried as he climbed to his feet. "Stay where you are!"

Richi took a step back and laughed. "Yes, Tariel. Stay right where

you are. If anyone tries to remove him from the circle that is not

completely in love with him for all that he is he and the other will both be

destroyed and he has to love that person equally as much. NOW do you see?

Now do you see? You were not meant to be with him! You were meant to be

with me! He SHOULD have died in that fire!"

Angela's eyes suddenly went wide. "You did it? You were the one that

did that? You killed my sister!"

Before Richi could act Angela pulled the knife out of the wall that she had

thrown at Jareth. Moving as quickly as she could she stabbed Richi right in

the heart. Richi stumbled back but as he did he continued to laugh. Even

after he hit the floor he was laughing.

Tariel looked at him blankly. The knife remained in Richi's chest

as Angela back up in to a corner of the room.

Richi choked as the blood rose in his throat. He knew that he was

dying but he no longer cared. He believed that he had won. He would have his

justice. "This building in going to explode in ten minutes. Your precious

Goblin King will be buried alive in rubble." Gasping for breath, feeling

as if he were drowning Richi shut his eyes. The pain in his chest was too

great. He died.

"Jareth?" Tariel said as she stepped a little closer to the

pentangle. Her eyes were pleading. She reached out for him but on instinct

he reacted as far back as he could away from him.

"Do you love me, Jareth?" She asked him.

He tried to think for a moment. "I know that Jeremy loved Elania."

"But that's not good enough. You have to face that Elania is a part

of who I am. She might seem different but I created her from a part of

myself that I usually deny. Jareth, you must understand that Elania is just

a part of me, I am Tariel. Look at me. Look at me completely for who I

truly am. This is who I am. I am Tariel of Blackrose. I am also Elania.

Elania is a part of me just as Jeremy is a part of you. She is an illusion

that shows only the aspects of who I am that I usually hide from others and

she hides the face of Tariel but she is still me, Tariel. Now, do you love

ME? There mustn't be any hesitation."

He looked at her closely in her true form. "I=E2=80=A6 I=E2=80=A6" Searching her

eyes he realized suddenly that all along he had loved Tariel only he had

never been willing to admit it. She was defiant. She had never been afraid

of him. In will and strength they were evenly matched. And their human

guises expressed exactly the same thing. "Yes." He said finally. He was

desperate. He could already feel that tine was running out. "Yes, I love

you. I always have but do you? Is it the same?"

She looked deep in to Jareth's eyes. Always they had been the same,

Jeremy's eyes and Jareth's. She had loathed his arrogance, his self

assuredness but what one hates in others is what one usually finds they

actually hate about themselves. She looked at him closely in his true form as

if for the very first tine. Searching his eyes she realized suddenly that all

along she had loved Jareth only she had never been willing to admit it. He

was aggressive, and powerful. He had never been afraid of her. That was

something that she had not been used to. In her realm of Blackrose just as

he in The Underground with him, she was the most powerful creature there. In

will and strength they were evenly matched. And their human guises expressed

exactly the same thing.

"You have to trust me." She took his hand.

"I trust you." He said finally as he stepped from the pentangle, the

barrier not preventing him and nothing happening other then her pulling him

out of his trap.

They embraced and then quickly pulled from one and other. That was

the first time they had ever touched each other out of affection for one and

other in their true forms.

Jareth looked to Angela who still stood in the corner of the room.

Pulling the knife up from Richi's corpse and stepped towards Angela. Tariel

quickly grabbed Jareth's arm, and pleaded. "No, Jareth. She had a child."

Jareth felt a moment of rare compassion for his true self, for the

first time in a long while allowing his human self to merge with his true

self and tossed aside the knife. "Get out of here now!" he said to Angela.

Without a second thought the woman ran from the building and Jareth

and Tariel disappeared.

The goblins stared in wonder as their master kissed Tariel of

Blackrose. They were very much so confused. This was the strangest thing

they had ever seen.

They kissed deeply and passionately.

The feel of her soft, subtle lips was like the taste of a fresh peach

to him. He savoured it. His mouth was partially opened as he allowed

himself to taste her sweetness.

She was so warm. He pressed himself close to her, wrapping himself

around her, wishing that he could somehow merge in with her. He did not want

to let her go.

His kiss was strong and deep. It was strangely forceful. If one

can imagine feeling a blow from being smacked by Staten that that is what she

felt just then. And she enjoyed it immensely. She could taste him. She

pressed close in to him.

"But how did he know=E2=80=A6?" Asked Tariel.

"He obviously dabbled in magick and in following you and I, he must

have studied folklore and in his mad paranoia came up with an idea so insane

that it was absolutely true."

To: .

Subject: [labyfic] Though we're strangers (Repost) part 10

From:

Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 22:53:54 EDT

Jeremy kneeled over on one knee and took Elania's hand in to his

own. It had been three months since the incident with Richi. "Will you

marry me, Elania." He asked.

"No." She replied simply.

He frowned. He felt crestfallen. Then he saw the gleam in her eyes.

He smiled. He knew what he had to do. He knew what had to be said.

Jareth, The Goblin King took Tariel of Blackrose in to his arms and

stared deep in to her eyes. "Tariel of Blackrose, will you do the honour of

being my Queen?"

Tariel smiled and nodded as she pressed in and kissed his lips gently.

"Yes.'

It was Saturday night as Elania sat at the nightclub and waited for

her husband to climb the stage. He was to perform tonight. It was very

nearly routine only tonight she had something to tell him..

Jeremy climbed up on to the stage he noticed that his lovely

young wife, Elania stood in the crowd. She was so very beautiful in the

light. But she had been ill lately and it made him worry. Her cheeks were

slightly swollen in both her mortal as well as in her immortal form. And she

had been violently ill this morning, as Tariel she had been.

He sighed.

The song began with the tinkling that sounded rather like the sound

of a music box. That is how he had wanted it to sound. This was caused by

the keyboard trickery.

The song had a soft, rhythmic bass.

Jeremy grabbed up the hand held microphone off of the stand and began to sway

his hips in time to the music soft, flowing music as he prepared to sing. He

did not need magick to have a fantastic voice.

He looked down at the floor of the stage and then he looked

directly and intently at the audience or at least those in the crowd who were

paying some mind to him. It was not a large audience but it was an audience

nonetheless and one face in particular in that audience he could not take his

eyes from. She was the reason why he was singing this. She was all that

mattered to him..

He could feel the tension in the air. It was marvelous. It felt like

a kind of magick to him and he loved it. With a graceful thrust he

made a slight turn.

He moved with the music as if it had entranced him and in a way it

had. He felt his head swimming from the energy and momentum of it all. It

seemed that this moment was more potent then any that he had ever known

before.

He spun around once on the tips of his shoes and then he began to

sway his hips in precision to the gentle, swaying music. In private this

would have looked actually quite ridiculous but on stage it seemed to be

fantastic.

The different aspects to the music vibrated the stage and swam

together forming a great melody out of several countless sounds that swirled

and mixed together like the ingredients of a great stew of noises. It was a

spinning of swirled and mingled colour forming a fantastic and beautiful

image, a soft, subtle painting of sound. And it was art and he loved it

because it was art.

He stepped forward about five steps and then moved full circle,

turning in circles for a moment or two.

He knew the steps to his own dance moves by heart. He honestly did

not really need to see his legs at all. He just allowed the music to take

him. Most good dances did not really need to look down at all when dancing

any way; they just let the rhythm take them as he was doing just then.

He looked intensely at the crowd. He had a purpose for doing this.

He only really wanted to be happy and at that moment he was. He was

happier then he had ever been in a long while. He looked at the blurred and

vague faces from beyond the stage. They were his audience and they were here

to see him but he was singing to one in particular that he knew would be in

that crowd.

It came suddenly, that magical moment when the music, the singer

and the audience all melded together as one. He was connected to them. He

was connected to that crowd. He had never felt anything like it before. It

was fantastic. That was the whole point to his creating art in any form, to

connect to others. He had to express himself. He had to make others feel

and he wanted to be understood. And in making others feel and think and

understand that was his fulfillment, that was his greatest happiness, perhaps

the only real happiness that he had ever really known. And he also knew that

is also a feeling that he knew and shared with Tariel.

At a precise note he sang after a certain note when the based had been in for

ten seconds or so he simply allowed himself to fall in to it, sensing the

exact moment to sing more then anything else.

If he made just one mistake the whole world, it seemed would

have heard it.

Well, it was too late to turn back now. His song had already

begun.

Everyone seemed to love it when he finally spoke up the opening

lyrics.

The music had seemed like it had long ago come in yet it had only

been a few seconds. It echoed through the room. It was pure. He loved it.

He made a few graceful dance moves to the music as it came. A

stretched step here, and there. It was difficult because it was a small stage

but it was workable.

He made a graceful turn with his microphone in his hand. He became

one with the music itself, that it was so pure.

So enthralled he was by the sound and feel of it all that he

was afraid that he had forgotten it but now he had remained focussed enough.

Then the moment came. It was precise and enchanting moment when

the music and the poetry became one and the song As the world falls down was

heard..

"There's such a sad love deep in your eyes,

A kind of pale jewel,

Open and closed within your eyes,

I'll place the sky within your eyes,"

Oh, it was absolute bliss for him just then.

It was as if he had achieved a state of nirvana in this, that he

had become one with everything in enlightenment and physical and mental

perfection. It was totally fabulous. It was absolutely amazing for him. He

seemed actually contented, and that was the magic of it all, the great and

powerful illusion. And this was so utterly perfect and yet no one knew what

it exactly was that achieved this splendid moment fixed forever, at least for

him at any rate, in time.

The whole mortal world seemed to have heard him and now they fell

in to the music with him as he was the whole world. He and the audience came

together. They were one in the sound and vision, in the song.

Now he let the music move him in time to the song so that his

whole form turned and folded as if yielding to a distant signal, forcing him

to dance with as much grace and beauty as any creature possibly could. The

music entranced and enthralled him as well as the crowd and without any

reason but to be the actual music he danced.

He let the passion of the song carry him as he swayed his hips in

time to the music.

His voice was heard through the building clearly echoing from off

of the walls. Oh, it was glorious.

His voice echoed through the room. His own voice hurt his ears for

a moment before he allowed himself to adapt to it's strange and amplified

sound.. He had wanted it that all of the audience would hear the same thing,

his own voice rising above all else. It was alien to him, the way that his

own voice sounded, raised in volume over speakers.

"There's such a fooled heart

Beating so fast in search of new dreams,

A love that will last within your heart,

I'll place the moon within your heart,

As the pain sweeps through

It makes no sense for you,

Every thrill has gone,

It wasn't too much fun at all

But I'll be there for you=E2=80=A6

As the world falls down,

It's falling=E2=80=A6

As the world falls down,

It's falling down=E2=80=A6

As the world,

Falling down,

Falling in love,

I'll paint you mornings of gold,

I'll spin you Valentine evenings,

Though we're strangers till now

We're choosing the path between the stars,

I'll leave my love between the stars,

As the pain sweeps through

It makes no sense for you,

Every thrill has gone,

It wasn't too much fun at all

But I'll be there for you=E2=80=A6

As the world falls down,

It's falling,

As the world,

It's Falling down,

It's falling,

As the world falls down,

It's falling,

It's falling,

Falling,

Falling in love,

As the world falls down,

Down,

It's falling,

It's falling,

It's falling,

Falling,

Falling in love,

As the world falls down,"

A small musical interlude followed, mainly by soft tinkling, the light bass

and the somewhat subdued sound of an electric guitar. Now he let the music

move him in time to the song so that his whole form turned and folded as if

yielding to a distant signal, forcing him to dance with as much grace and

beauty as any creature possibly could. The music entranced and enthralled

him as well as the crowd and without any reason but to be the actual music he

danced.

He the song carry him.

He knew the steps to his own dance moves by heart. He honestly

did not really need to see his legs at all. Most good dances did not really

need to look down at all when dancing any way; they just let the rhythm take

them as he was doing just then.

He had one of the greatest singing voices that this world

had ever known and would ever know. Elania, though he would always hate to

admit it could always sing better then he could. .

"It's falling,

It's falling,

It's failing,

Makes no sense at all,

Makes no sense to fall,

Falling,

As the world falls down,

Falling,

Falling,

Falling in love,

As the world falls down,

Down,

Falling,

Falling,

Falling in love,

Falling in love

Love,

Falling in love,

Falling in love,

Falling in love,

Falling in love,"

The song faded out and Jeremy walked off of the stage.

In the back alley of the nightclub he stood waiting for her. She had

something important that she wanted to tell him.

She stepped up behind him. "Jareth?"

He turned around with a smile. "Yes, darling?"

"I'm with child, love."

Jareth swept her up and spun with her in his arms. She was carrying

his baby. He had never been so happy as he was then. The reams of

Blackrose and The Underground were now united and their child, prince Alex

would be their heir. For once in a very long time Jareth could see that in

fact everything for him was falling in to place.

"Are you happy?" Tariel asked Jareth.

And Jareth replied with "Oh, yes. Yes, I am. I am very happy."

And maybe, just maybe they really did live happily ever after.

The End.


End file.
